100 Moments Frozen in Time
by Ferix79
Summary: For the 100 prompt challenge. 003-Ends-At the end of the night, Russia snuggled up to Liet and fell asleep. At the end of the night, Liet wondered how much more he could take.
1. 001 Beginnings

001. Beginnings

It was the beginning of a new era when the sun rose on the east coast that fine day. Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the now United States of America, was perched atop a hill in Jamestown overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, his knees brought up to his chest and enjoying the first early morning sunrise of his now independent nation.

In a way he already felt freer. Even though there were still British troops in New York City and the 'States' of America were more akin to unorganized territories, Alfred simply felt as if a large part of him had just…disappeared.

And he _loved_ the feeling of it.

He was no longer bound by that…that intolerable British man, England, or, as England would say, a 'blooming git'.

"Bah, I'm tired of even thinking those god-awful words of his…" Alfred murmured aloud, frustrated by the fact that the Englishman was still constantly on his mind. "I don't miss him, I _do not_ miss him…" he clenched his eyes shut and nodded furiously, convincing himself.

"Besides, I've got plenty of other, much more important business matters to worry about." America continued, using his hands to push himself up to a standing position, voice steadily rising in volume, "I'm my own country, damnit, I don't need him!" the blonde stomped his foot and clenched his fists, voice rising to a shout. Several birds flitted out of a nearby tree, chased away by the sudden verbalization.

America smiled and nodded to himself, his hands on his hips, as he overlooked the sparkling water and rising sun. He was his own nation, and he was darned proud of himself and his people, too. That stupid England didn't help him get here, to this level of awesomeness, not at all.

The sun wasn't rising on this British colony anymore…it was rising on the United States of America.

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**And so it begins…**

**Well anyway, I decided to attempt the 100 prompt challenge because a phail at coming up with ideas for stories. So, the prompts give me inspiration and experience on writing fiction. Hope you enjoy. I'll try to update at least once every day/every other day.**


	2. 002 Middles

**Totally forgot the disclaimer on the first chapter.  
Hetalia does not belong to me, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

002. Middles

By the middle of the week, Spain couldn't say he was faring too well. In just three days of work, he had managed to upset his boss several times and fall asleep on the job twice. And on top of that, Spain and the whole of Europe was still dealing with the crisis in Iran, the horrid economy, and whatever else decided to pop up on a day to day basis. Overall, the usually happy, care-free Spaniard was bogged down by worries over the world's problems.

And on top of that, the Spanish football team just lost to the American team!

"What is the world coming too…?" Antonio mumbled with his head in his hands, stopped at a stubborn red traffic light that had not changed for some time. Just a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up adorned the Spaniard, suit jacked thrown in the backseat due to the rising summer heat. He lifted his head and glanced up, the traffic light finally switching to green and the rush hour traffic unclogging itself slightly as cars rushed forward.

Spain continued on at his steady pace, keeping up with the rest of the vehicles around him, for quite some time. However, just a few blocks from his home, the previously green light he was speeding towards suddenly altered to red, causing Antonio to slam on his breaks and almost run the red light. A few cars behind him also screeched to a stop and honked loudly; Spain could hear some of the drivers shouting obscenities out their windows.

Safely at a full stop and all in one piece, the dark skinned man relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief and slumping back into the driver's seat. A catchy tune abruptly disturbed the quiet of the warm car and caused Antonio to sit up and reach to his back seat, fishing his cell phone out of his suit jacket. He flipped open the small device and checked the screen.

_'You have three new text messages'. _The LED screen brightly displayed. The Spaniard pressed the 'Accept' button and read the first text, eyes flicking to the light ahead of him every few seconds to check for a green light. The first text was from Lovino.

'_Potato bastard came over to my place for Feli so I left. I'm coming to your house.' _It read. So Romano was his house now? He checked the time of the text. _12:03._ It was now past 4:30, surly the Italian hadn't waited outside his door for that long…

He opened the second message.

_'I'm in your house and bored. Found your spare key, you need to hide it better.' _The second one read, also apparently from the elder Italian. Antonio sighed, perhaps Lovino had at least cooked something for him to eat when he got home.

The brunette man hit the 'accept' button once again, hoping the light wouldn't change so he could read this last text.

_'Very bored, you need to hurry up and get home…I'm hungry and I can't find the pasta.'_ Antonio put his hand on his forehead. He should have never expected the lazy Italian to attempt to cook something, much less find the necessary ingredients.

He looked up once again, the traffic light finally switching to green. The Spaniard snapped his phone shut, tossed it to the passenger's seat, grabbed the wheel, and stepped on the gas. He expected to be greeted with a hungry, annoyed Italian when he arrived home.

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And Antonio was greeted with a hungry, annoyed Italian when he finally pulled into his own driveway. Lovino had not even waited for him to get in the house; the moment Spain stepped out of the car the Southern Italy brother went off.

"Where have you been, you bastard?! Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting here? Five hours, Antonio, FIVE HOURS. And I couldn't even find the damn pasta! Do you know what the hell kind of state your kitchen is in? It is filthy and unorganized and, goddamnit, I couldn't even find the wine! I'm STARVING and I'm not making dinner and…" Romano ranted to the Spaniard.

Meanwhile, Antonio proceeded to grab his cell phone and laptop out of the passenger's seat, then open the back door and get his suit jacket, all the while having Lovino scream in his ear. The Italian followed right behind him as he trudged up his sidewalk to the front door, shoved the partially cracked door open, set his things down on the kitchen table, and then collapsed on the couch. Spain put his face in a throw pillow and covered his head with tired, sore hands. Romano was still ranting.

"…and did you know you had a bunch of ripe tomatoes out back? You're supposed to pick them when they're red or they'll fall off and rot, you bastard! I mean I didn't go out and pick them, but you really need to! If they rot your whole house will small and that will be wasting food and-" The Italian continued on, until he was interrupted by Antonio.

"Lovi, mi amor, I'm sorry for your horrible day but I am _exhausted._" The tanned man explained. Lovino crossed his arms over his chest and stared incredulously at the man below him. "I know you won't cook anything, Lovi, and I definitely do not have any more enthusiasm than you do. As much as I would love to sit down to dinner with you, I don't have the energy. I think I'm just going to go shower and then go to bed."

Lovino paused at the Spaniard's curt words and looked away from the man lying on the couch. He was silent for a few seconds before speaking. "Fine, I'll just order out. I don't need you!" The Italian huffed and stalked into the kitchen.

Antonio simply sighed and pulled himself up to a sitting position, stretching his arms and shoulders before standing and proceeding to his bedroom.

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After a soothing, hot shower the Spaniard pulled on a comfy t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants before collapsing on his bed and curling up into the sheets and blankets. About half an hour into his rest, his bedroom door opened, soft light pouring in from the hallway. Antonio lifted his head to catch a glance at who ever disturbed him. Through the semi-darkness, Spain caught sight of a small head and that telltale curl of Lovino's hair.

"Yes, is there something you need, Lovi?" Antonio questioned, sitting up and yawning. Romano scurried into the room and shut the door behind him, returning the room to its previous darkness. "I was just tired…and I…I wonderedificouldsleephere." The Italian blurted out all in one breath, turning his head to the side as to hide his pink-tinted face.

"Qué?" Antonio said, "Lovi could you repeat that?"

"I said," Lovino began, turning his head back to face Spain full on "Can. I. Sleep. Here, you bastard!" he almost shouted, face turning red with embarrassment and anger.

Antonio chucked and nodded. "Of course you can, mi amor~. You know I would never refuse you."  
Lovino huffed and crawled under the blankets with Antonio, snuggling up to his chest. "…missed you all day…" The Italian whispered, his face buried in the Spaniard's shirt. "You're weird when you're not happy, idiot. Makes me feel bad…"

"Aw, Lovi. It's not your fault, you know that. I was just stressed." Antonio answered, running his large hands through Lovino's short hair. The Italian did not answer, choosing to simply wrap his arms around Spain. Antonio smiled, lying his head back down next to Romano's, and kissed his former charge on the forehead. He, too, wrapped his arms around his bedmate before drifting off to sleep.

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**mi amor-my love  
que?-what?  
**  
**Awww, Spain. You're such a nice guy x_x  
My first attempt at fluff. Is it good, y/n?**

**Oh and when I mentioned football I mean soccer, for any American readers who didn't know. In Europe, soccer is called football. It makes a lot more sense than our football. American football should be called handegg.**


	3. 003 Ends

**Hetalia does not belong to me. **

003. Ends

Russia loved his Soviet Union and all those that had the 'blessing' of being a part of it.

Well, except maybe Belarus. Russia could do without her.

But the rest of the Soviet states, Russia cared for with all his heart. He hadn't the slightest idea as to why some of his friends, such as Latvia or Estonia, seemed to fear him. The USSR always made sure there was a roof over their heads, a bed to sleep in, and a warm meal on their plate. And plus, what could be better that everyone living together in harmony?

But, of all his lovely friends, Ivan Braginsky loved none other more that his darling little Lithuania.

Lithuania had not been the first to join the Soviet Union, he and the other Baltics were actually some of last. Also, during World War II, some western powers, his so called Allies, refused to even recognize his Lithuania as part of the glorious Soviet Union. But dates and official papers meant nothing to Ivan. He couldn't say he cared too much for the actual country of Lithuania; all Ivan cared for was Toris, the small brunette boy who he couldn't get enough of.

Russia thought that Toris should feel honored; many of his fellow Soviet states did not get the privileges that his Liet did. Lithuania would sit directly next to him at dinner, Liet was his most trustworthy confidant, his right hand man, and Ivan even allowed Liet to share a bed with him. Really, some people (like Belarus) would kill to be in Lithuania's position, the best friend of one of the most powerful Republics in the world.

However…

"Oh Lithuania…"

A whip in the grips of a powerful fist, multiple blades dangling from the walls.

"Aah! Ivan, stop!"

His darling little Lithuania could make the most precious noises at times.

"P-please…please, Ivan!"

A maniac giggle and gleaming lavender eyes.

Hours later, it would end. Ivan would unchain his Liet and wipe him down with a warm towel, all by himself. He never asked a servant to do the job. No, only he could touch his Lithuania like this. Then the powerful Russian would cover Toris with a blanket and carry him delicately in his arms, bridal style, up the stairs and into his large bedroom.

He would gently set Toris down on the soft mattress and give his a loving peck on the forehead. "I'll be right back." He would whisper before going to change into his night clothes.

At the end of each and every night Ivan would pull Toris close, breath in his scent, and fall fast asleep, dreaming of his blissfully perfect world in which no one fought and everyone happily lived under his roof.

At the end of each night Lithuania would stare at the wall, wrapped warmly in blankets and cuddled up to Ivan, and think of happier times. A few tears might slip out of his eyes, he didn't really pay attention any more. He truly believed that somewhere deep inside of Russia there was a kind person, Lithuania just assumed that he was not the one with the capabilities to find it. He really loved Russia, but he longed for better days with golden fields and wheat that stretched on for miles.

But he was all Russia's now. As Russia constantly reminded him,

"Don't worry, Lithuania. In the end, everyone will be one with the Soviet Union."

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**A few history notes~**

**USSR=United Soviet Socialist Republic  
The USSR was formed in 1922 by Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Armenia, Georgia, and Azerbaijan.  
The Baltics(Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia) were some of the last nations to join the Soviet Union, in 1940.  
The Baltics didn't really 'join'; Communist rule was forced on them.  
Western powers such as the US and UK claimed that Soviet occupation of Lithuania was illegal.  
Though they did recognize USSR borders, the US never recognized any of the Baltics as part of the Soviet Union.**


End file.
